


Double Face

by Warpony



Category: Critical Role (Web Series), UnDeadwood (Web Series)
Genre: Double Face - Freeform, Folk Tale, Gen, He'll be okay though, Hurt Matthew, Legends, Minor Matthew Mason/Clayton Sharpe, Monsters, Native American Character(s), Native American Mythology - Freeform, Susan - Freeform, Water Panther
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:13:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25844113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warpony/pseuds/Warpony
Summary: The Deadwood Five decide to investigate a warning of danger in the mountains surrounding their town.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 14





	Double Face

Deadwood was quietly used to the weird and strange. It had seen many things over the years, was home to things only thinly veiled as citizens, and attracted the odd like a moth to flame. 

But even the citizenship of Deadwood found themselves brought to a standstill when two Lakota Sioux warriors rode bareback into town on painted Nakota war ponies. 

The first instinct was to scramble the sheriff and everyone else that was remotely handy with a firearm. The show of force fizzled when the two, grim warriors paid the rifles and pistols in their faces no mind. Their horses didn't even flinch at dogs snapping at their heels in the snow and muddy slush of main street.

Al Swearengen watched the whole affair on his balcony and from behind his coffee mug before barking at Jimmy to fetch 'the Preacher and his friends' to deal with the pair of savages and get them out of town so they could all get back to business, goddamnit.

Matthew Mason, Clayton Sharpe, Arabella Whitlock, Miriam Landsiman and Aloysius Fogg reported to the front of the Gem Saloon. The cluster of nervous onlookers and anxious riflemen gladly parted ways for what had become the unofficial ambassadors of Deadwood to approach the two Natives waiting in the street. 

Even Clayton and Aloysius, who had done more than their fair share of roaming had to admit the pair of warriors cut an impressive and intimidating presence. Dressed in buckskins and wrapped up in bear furs, their faces and ponies painted in red, black and white pigments, hair woven in intricate designs with feathers and beads. Each had a bow, quiver and a rifle slung across their backs. Their faced were dour and rigid. Whatever had brought them into Deadwood certainly wasn't a jovial matter. 

Matthew moved ahead towards them. Hands out and empty for good measure as he addressed the pair of strangers, "I'm Reverend Mason. Welcome to Deadwood, is there some kind of... business we can help you gentlemen with?"

One of the riders immediately spoke back, actually making a few of the onlookers jump, but the words were lost on Matthew; they weren't using English. 

Matthew let his hands fall a little, "I'm sorry, friend. I don't understand. Anyone... anyone catch that?"

There was a general murmur through the assembly that didn't give Matthew much hope. He looked towards his throng of friends, "Any of you speak... whatever this fellas using? Clayton? Aloysius?"

Aloysius shook his head. "I barely got English down."

Clayton's hands stayed settled lightly on the butts of his holstered pistols as he studied the two riders. "I know what it is, I think. Sioux? Maybe Cheyenne. But I only know a little Spanish and some words in Pawnee. Not enough to string a sentence together and the tribes aren't on the best terms."

Matthew sighed, "Ain't Cheyenne. Cheyenne speak Algonquian."

Miriam, Arabella, Clayton and Aloysius looked at him. The giant of a man hunched his shoulders a little bit and muttered, "... my cavalry outfit had an Arapaho guide. Was a nice enough fella, he taught me a little bit, his tribe and Cheyenne and a few others all speak some kinda Algonquian."

"Well hell, Preacher. Go on and give it a shot." Clayton gestured slightly towards the two warriors. "Find out what they want then tell 'em to get the hell outta here."

Matthew glared at him again before turning and stepping back towards the two riders. Stumbling and badly butchering what he remembered Matthew managed out some semblance of Algonquian. 

The first rider listened intently and after a few moments responded slowly and very deliberate in the same language. 

Matthew and the Lakota Sioux exchanged words, slowly, brokenly but the best they were able until it seemed that the warriors had relayed their message. Then they abruptly turned their war ponies and trotted right out of town and into the snow dense forest.

"Care to enlighten us all, Preacher?" Swearengen barked from his balcony before taking a long sip from his coffee. "We expectin' unsavory company?"

"No. Lord help us, no." Matthew rushed to quell the sudden rustle through the townsfolk at the idea of some kind of raid. "Nothin' like that. I didn't get it all but sorta sounded like they came to warn us. Stay offa the mountain best we can. Some kind of... danger... Said if we go up there to run towards water."

Another nervous murmur swept through the Deadwood citizens. 

"They seem genuine to you, Reverend?" Arabella asked. 

Matthew hummed, shifting his weight. "Those fellas were a bit tough to read. I don't reckon they'd come down here for no reason at all."

"Iffen its anything its probably a damn trap to lure people out in the middle of nowhere and rob or kill em." Swearengen hummed into his coffee mug for a moment then barked across the collected citizens. "All of ya get your fill of excitement? Good! Git back to it!" 

There was a small scramble as the crowd broke up instantly, muttering in broken off pairs and small groups. Matthew half expected Swearengen call them up his office but the business man just turned on his heel and disappeared back inside.

"Matty," Clayton's quiet voice caught his attention as much as the nickname did. The small group of his friends closed in tight as they started to make way towards the church. They didn't call each other by their nicknames much except in each other’s company. To often they felt as if they gave so much of themselves to others. The town, his flock, Swearengen... those names were for just them to keep. 

"Was that what they really said?" Clayton asked. 

"Or all that they said?" Arabella prompted. 

Matthew gave an hopeless shrug, "That's the best I could make out of it, Bella. They said more but I didn't know the words. He said somethin' a couple times that was still Sioux... Hesto... shit... how'd it go... hestova... _Hestovatohkeo'o_. I think it was a name. Maybe what they call the mountain."

"Its all really very strange." Miriam muttered. "You did a fine job, Matty. In less than ideal circumstances."

The Reverend gave her a small smile in response. 

"Well let's saddle up." 

"Clay. No." Arabella sighed. 

"Don't tell me y'all believe all that pageantry." Clayton scoffed, already steering their path away from the church and to the livery. 

"They seemed like they meant it, Clay." Matthew hedged. 

"And they didn't seem like the types to go waltzing around givin' warnin's for people to go on ahead an ignore 'em." Aloysius agreed. 

"All I hear is a bunch of wet hens cluckin'. I'm goin' to a have a look around and if there's nothin' there then I'm comin' back to track those two scouts as far as I need to, to figure out what the hell they got out of playin' jokes on a whole town like that." The sharpshooter ducked right into the livery office.

"We can't let him go alone." Miriam said in a huff of exacerbation.

"No we cannot." Matthew agreed, ruffling his own hair the wrong way. "God preserve us."

It didn't take long before they were outfitted with horses, had paused to haul on their warm weather gear and some supplies before riding out of town. 

Clayton certainly made it no secret of where they were heading by veering right off the road into the snow and towards the mountain trails before they were out of sight of the town. 

The dark, barren trees were thick and heavily drifted with snow. Sound muffled to almost perfect stillness. It wasn't windy or bitterly cold. Warmly tucked into their coats the posse could have considered it a leisurely trail ride together, a bit of quiet time away from the church and Gem and Swearengen and all the rest of Deadwood.

The longer the ride went with no signs of danger the more relaxed the posse of friends became. They only stopped once to water their horses at a large pond tucked deep in the trees and slowed their pace further as they steady rode upwards. Aloysius passed around a large feed bag full of shelled peanuts and broken hunks of chocolate and the atmosphere turned jovial enough that they started to tease Clayton for his rush to get out onto the mountains so quickly.

"Clay when those Sioux fellas told us all to stay clear of the of the mountain for awhile I genuinely did not think your first instinct would have been to immediately head that way." Matthew rumbled, a small smirk playing on his lips as he popped another hunk of chocolate into his mouth, "Lord help a man of to much action and not enough thought."

"I concur with the Reverend." Miriam chirped from her position in the riding line two horses back. "I'd have thought runnin' wild all those years mighta left you with a lick more sense."

"Well whats it say about ya'll ridin' right along with me then?" The sharpshooter barely looked over his shoulder at his friends behind him. 

"That you unreservedly have religiously loyal friends willin' enough to ignore warnings and make sure to be there to drag your sorry, scrawny ass home whens all said and done." Matthew grinned, "Just a little emphasis on 'religiously'. Clayton Sharpe your guardian angel sang a song of relief when you saddled up with us. We're doin' their job for 'em."

"What does a guardian angel get paid nowadays?" Arabella twisted in her saddle to look back at Matthew and reaching for the feed bag of trail mix.

The Reverend tilted his head back and ticking his jaw a bit as he thought for a moment.

"Can't be much then." Clayton called from the head of their posse. 

"You least of all get to complain." Matthew scolded, glaring at the back of Clayton's hat and knowing that the sharpshooter was bound to be smiling to himself. 

"Anyway, quit all that bellyachin'. Those scouts were just tryin' to stir up some shit in town cause winters dead borin' and they ain't got soldiers around here to squabble with. All their 'warnings' were just bullshit." Clayton scolded. "Stay offa the mountain. Run towards water. What'n the hell's that even supposed to mean."

"Maybe if anyone in the whole town knew how to speak proper Sioux we coulda got more answers. Not that you didn't do a fine job Matty." Miraim said pointedly. "And they didn't look like just any old scouts. They were awful confident ridin' in and out of town the way they did."

"Clay's just jealous that there's anyone in the territory that's a cooler customer'n him." Matthew reasoned. "Now he's gotta come out here and prove its all hogwash or shoot a bear to get back into standin'."

Clayton actually yanked his horse around to face the Matthew. "Not that ain't it at all!"

His voice barked like a gunshot in the snow muffled trees around them, making them flinch as a group of birds burst into flight as being startled. The posse stayed silent for a moment, barely breathing as they listened in the disturbed silence around them. 

Clayton shrank a little when Miriam glared at him and hissed, "Ghost stories, warnings, bullshit or not, it ain't smart to go hollering at the top of your lungs in the middle of the woods, Clayton Sharpe."

The sharpshooter flushed a little, "I've had just about enough of ya'll teasin' me."

Matthew ducked his head guiltily, "... Clay... I-"

A panicked woman's scream ripped through the forest, " _HELP ME! Please! God help me! HELP ME! Someone please! HELP!_ "

They froze, listening, arguments and teasing all forgotten.

Another rippling scream cut through the snowy forest. No words just sobs and mangled wails of terror, despite the echoes off the trees it seemed not far north of them.

"Quick!" Aloysius barked, spurring his horse into a gallop, crashing and plunging through the snow and rushing up their riding line to nearly the front as the others kicked their horses to follow.

They raced full tilt through snow, weaving through the trees until the horses' breath was billowing in clouds of steam and the fur on their necks was damp. 

The intermittent screams for help pitched then cut off sharply and the posse pushed their horses faster, breaking into a small clearing before pulling their horses up sharply. They listened, trying to catch anything on the air.

"No. No it was definitely in front of us." Aloysius growled, twisting in his saddle to look around. 

"We should back track, maybe we missed some tracks-" Clayton huffed already turning his horse.

A loud snapping of wood came from directly above the posse. They looked up with only a fraction of a second to register the huge, lanky form twisted up in the canopy. A painted mask amid tangled and matted ropes of hair and a gaping maw of jagged teeth before a massive arm and clawed hand whipped out lighting fast to grab Arabella's horse by the head and neck, setting the animal off shrieked in terror. Arabella screamed as the giant creature lifted the kicking and bucking horse right off the ground. Its massive hand clenched and the animal's shrieks went silent with a echoing crunch of bone and the horse went limp. Arabella threw herself of the dead beast and into the snow as the monstrosity lifted the horse up and bit into it savagely. Crunching and grinding bone, ripping of flesh as it was bitten nearly in half and a surge of blood plunged into the snow.

"BELLA!" Miriam screamed, driving her own terrified horse forwards to grab and haul Arabella up onto the saddle behind her. 

The crack of gunfire burst around them as Matthew and Clayton unloaded rounds into the creature as rapidly as they could. 

The monstrosity roared, its voice sounding like a twisted version of the screams they'd heard before. That had _lured_ them here. Its mouthful of jagged teeth full of bloody flesh it tossed away the mutilated horse and lumbered down towards them from its perch.

"RUN GODDAMNIT RUN!" Clayton bellowed, kicking his frightened horse into a sprint. The others charging with him back the way they'd come. Their horses frothing and eyes rolling in fear and galloping recklessly through the snow. 

The colossal creature wailed again and lurched after them, lumbering ape-like on all fours and swiping at them when it got close. The monster's great size slowed it, making it claw its way after them through the trees the smaller horses and riders dashed and ducked through. For a brief, panicked moment between prayers and pounding heartbeats Matthew thought they might outstrip it and get away. 

But the creature was hardly slow. Its giant, lanky form thrown forwards as it swung off trees, uprooting and snapping smaller trunks and leaving deep claw gouges in thicker ones. 

Matthew dared twist in his saddle to look back, try and see the creature. He soaked up what details he could. Its frame humanoid but skeletal. Too many elbow joints, skin mottled grays and bleach bone white. Its mouth hanging and full of the rows of jagged teeth with a nightmarish under bite, the face just a painted mask that in the wild sprint looked like the painted faces of the Sioux warriors from before, the thick, tangled black mane of hair threaded with beads and bones. 

As he watched it the creature swung sideways through a few trees after them and Matthew glimpsed a second mask on the back of the its head of twisted and knotted hair. 

Then the world when ass over tea kettle as his horse stumbled and bucked, throwing Matthew hard into the snow as it tried to get back to its feet. 

The Reverend's head pounded and dazed for a moment before fear and realization of just what his situation was had him scrambling to get to his feet, trying to run.

"MATTY!" 

Matthew had a moment to think that Clayton's voice should not sound so panicked or afraid before what felt like a boulder slammed into his legs. He felt his knee snap and dislocate as the massive hand and claws wrapped around his legs and dragged him backwards through the snow. 

The claws tore through leather into flesh, making him cry out, clawing at the ground for purchase. Trying to find something to stop him from being dragged back into the meat grinder of its mouth. A wash of reeking, moist breath flooded over his back when that eerie wailing roar bellowed out at the back of his skull.

A thunder of hooves crashed around him, Matthew getting a brief glance of the pigment striped legs of a horse before he was roughly hauled up out of the snow and dragged over the bareback rump of one. He instinctively wrapped arms around the body in front of him, fingers digging into thick bear fur as the crack of a rifle and hiss of a bowstring ping ponged in his ears. 

The horse under him burst into a far more controlled gallop than his own had. Less fear. More confidence. A war horse. Matthew recognized the difference as easily as he had between a pack mule and his own horse back in the cavalry. 

His knee seared in pain but he clenched his legs tight to stay on. 

"Matty! MATTY!" Clayton's voice, tight and not to far from his side. The Reverend dared to give a quick glance around and sucked in a breath he hadn't realized he was starved for. Clayton had managed to pull his half crazed horse up next to Matthew. The sharpshooter's eyes jumping from him to the world around them then back again, hands tight on his reins and saddle horn. 

Matthew nodded teeth grit tight and cautiously glancing to confirm that he was riding double with one of the Sioux warriors that had come to Deadwood that very morning. 

The two painted war ponies corralled the frightened horses and drove them off their terrified flight, cutting a new path through the trees. 

He didn't dare turn around but Matthew could hear the crashing of the monstrosity still chasing them.

The pony under him gave a lurch and with a crash they plunged into icy water. Matthew flinched as it soaked his boots and legs instantly as the pony bounded until chest deep before finally stopping. The splash and roil of water all around them announced the rest of the posse diving in with them. Clayton instantly driving his horse up next to the Native warrior and Matthew. Miriam and Arabella crowding up on the other side.

The Reverend shook himself and looked around. He vaguely recognized the pond they'd watered their horses at a scant few hours before. He saw Aloysius and the other Sioux with them. The horses shifted nervously in the water. Their necks and sides drenched in sweat, to afraid to stay still but to exhausted and now chilled by the water to keep running.

For a moment Matthew felt Clayton's hand as the sharpshooter reached out to clench into the shoulder of his jacket before the sounds of trees snapping and being uprooted flooded around them. The colossal creature charged up to the edge of the water. It stood for a moment, leaning up on its knuckles and arched in a bow legged stance. Matthew could see a few of the Sioux's arrows stuck fast in its jaw. Arabella shuddered, pressing herself closer to Miriam as the creature rocked its weight back and forth and started to shake its head, the beads and bones in its matted hair rattling and clacking together like a death rattle in the rib cage of a dying man.

The two Sioux and their war ponies stood fast as the other horses shuffled anxiously. Every available pistol and rifle was up and aimed. The creature just hissed and rattled it hair from the bank. 

Matthew felt a new feeble hope. Maybe this was what they meant. Run to water. Maybe it wouldn't come into the pond. Maybe it was a demon or evil spirit that couldn't cross running water.

Another moment passed before the creature seemed to make a decision and a long arm and huge hand swung forwards and plunged into the water. It lumbered forwards, still hissing and rattling, stalking closer. Matthew braced himself, ready for the war pony to run again. 

The water next to the creature exploded, another beast rearing up from the deepest part of the pond. It was not nearly the size of the monster but twice the size of the biggest draft horse Matthew had ever seen. A feline form, a set of antlers like a mule deer, hide a mix of fur and coppery scales like a fish or reptile and a long line of dorsal spines along its back. Huge webbed and clawed paws latched into the monster's body and the feline beast lunged for its neck and throat. A long, partially finned tail like and eel lashed out, whipping at the monsters legs.

The monstrosity screamed, slashing and raking claws at the feline beasts' body. The cat acted all the more like a giant mountain lion, climbing its way up onto the monstrosity, biting and tearing for purchase on its throat.

The monstrosity fought savagely, bucking and twisting, trying to get away or get the upper hand on the cat. The feline beast snarled as claws raked through it's copper scaled hide and left five deep gouges in its side and flank. 

The fight was terrifying, the struggle of two giant, ancient predators. The monster's struggles got more desperate and slipped suddenly in the water and muddy churned earth. The huge cat seized the opportunity, lunging and burying teeth almost as long as Matthew's arm into the monster's throat. It ripped, blood and gore pouring out as the monster's windpipe and jugular was crushed and shredded. 

The monstrosity jerked, shuddered and slumped over, suddenly and frighteningly still. 

The massive water cat hung on the way only a mountain lion did until it was sure its prey was dead. The cat turned its massive, antlered head around, ears pinning and giving a throaty growl as it eyeing them. It hobbled and few steps, favoring a leg and bleeding heavily from its gouged flank but it didn't advance. 

Slowly the Sioux warriors turned their ponies and led the way along the waters edge to the far bank, onto land and walked through the trees, leaving the water cat and its kill behind. 

They trudged in exhausted silence, none arguing about the Sioux leading the way back down the mountain. With slow moves and a bit of awkwardness Matthew managed to slide across from the war pony to the back of Clayton's horse, leaning on the sharpshooter once he was settled. 

"That was the thing you warned us about." The Reverend rasped. " _Hestovatohkeo'o_."

The native rider hesitated, puzzling out the English from the word he knew before giving a small nod.

Matthew fumbled a little with the Algonquian to ask what the other had been. The cat in the water.

" _Mishipeshu_." The Sioux said simply before urging his horse on and back to the trail leading the way to the outskirts of Deadwood.

"Matty? What did he say?" Clayton asked quietly as his exhausted horse stumbled along the way home.

The Reverend sniffed heavily, "I think it was 'water panther'."

... 

"Matthew Mason what the good God damn hell!?"

"For what its worth, Bella, I wasn't really expecting this to happen." The Reverend admitted. He stumbled forwards a step when the massive head of the water panther, _Mishipeshu_ , butted against his back. The huge cat was letting out a sound like water burbling over stones. Some kind of strange purr. 

The coppery fur and scales glinted in the sunlight mottled through the trees. The massive cat like creature lounged in the shade and long summer grass. They were a just inside the treeline beyond the church. Its long eel tail curled and swished lazily along the ground. The five thick scars across its side making it unmistakably the water panther that had killed _Hestovatohkeo'o_ all those months ago. Paws the size of wagon wheels, webbed and clawed flopped on either side of where Matthew stood. It methodically kneaded and scratched at the earth the same way any pleased barn cat would. 

"Matty that doesn't explain _anything_." Clayton rubbed at his face, hands dragging down over his eyes. 

"I went back. To the pond. I had to. I had to make sure it was all real and she was sitting there on the bank sufferin' terribly. The Lord commands never turn away from sufferin'. There wasn't much I could do really so I tossed her my lunch and went on my way but I just ended up goin' back more 'n more-"

"... you did _WHAT?!_ "

The water panther sent a low, warning growl towards Clayton. Her lips curling, the spines along her back rattling a little. Matthew gently shoved her head down, shushing her and scratching between her antlers and ears. The beast went back to nuzzling Matthew under his arm and against his side. Then tilting her head up and demanding to be scratched under the chin. Matthew immediately obliged. 

"Well yasee... I felt... bad for her so I kept goin' back and feedin' her and talkin' sweet to her and this time... well... this time she... followed me back." The Reverend muttered sheepishly, stumbling a little when the creature butted her head against his side. "Susan's awfully sweet once she warms up to you. That’s not to say that it didn't take a while for her to come around. And a lot of chocolate. And pig ears.”

"... what did you call it?" Clayton asked tonelessly.

"... Susan." Matthew refused to look up at any of them. "After the Sioux that helped us out… I thought it was kinda clever."

"You're fuckin' with me." Clayton snorted, "That's all it is ya'll. He's fuckin' with us."

"I really ain't." Matthew sighed and pushed Susan away when she lifted her head over his shoulder to try and lick his cheek, even gently bopping her on the nose with a 'quit' when she persisted. 

The water panther chuffed and her head thumped down sulkily on the earth, nearly knocking Matthew over and forcing him to step over a thick foreleg to get out of the way. He started to stroke her neck gently, the babbling brook purr rumbling up again.

"I figured she could just live in the swimming hole yanno. And we can roll out a couple goats or a cow to her everyday... hey... hey wait. Where'll ya'll goin'? Clay? Miriam! Aly! Bella! Just hold on! Come back! Clay!"

**Author's Note:**

> And now for something completely different.
> 
> I tried really hard to keep as much of the info about location, historical tribal territories and legends as accurate as I could with the info I found available. I could not for the life of me find and accurate Algonquian or Sioux translator to actually write the dialogue for the two NPCs here so I opted out of direct dialogue for them just for the fact that I didn't want it misrepresented or poorly done. 
> 
> The two creatures features here Hestovatohkeo'o (Double Face) and Mishipeshu (Water Panther) are creatures from the Native American Mythology. Double Face is featured in many of the legends of the tribes of South Dakota (where Deadwood is located) but I did nudge the Water Panther's territory a bit further west than where it's usually found in the Great Lakes and Northeast areas though it shows up in several tribal people's legends across the US.
> 
> Hopefully you guys enjoyed. UnDeadwood was an interesting mini series and it was fun to write a monster scuffle. 
> 
> And also Susan. 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!


End file.
